


Muggle Intelligence

by starpaint



Category: British Politics RPF, Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-05-28
Updated: 2014-05-28
Packaged: 2018-01-26 22:00:07
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 612
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1704056
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/starpaint/pseuds/starpaint
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>They're cleverer than the wizards give them credit for. Not that this is hard to achieve.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Muggle Intelligence

The bookcase on the west wall slid to one side, and a man in a plain grey suit stepped out from behind it. He raised an eyebrow at the Prime Minister, who sighed, then dug in his pocket. 

“You were right,” the Prime Minister said, holding out a fifty-pound note. “He’s more gullible than the last one. Hell, he’s more gullible than the President.” 

“The inbreeding is strong in that one, sir,” said the man in the grey suit.

The third man in the room quirked his lips slightly. “It is good to see you again, Mr. Major.”

“You as well, Shacklebolt. Now sit down, both of you. I’d like a real briefing this time. How much of that idiot’s babble was true, and what else do I need to know?”

-

“I’ve got a code 66 Moses.”

“What’s he wearing?” a black woman asked softly. She was sitting at the edge of the first of ten rows in a computer bank, every screen streaming sixteen videos off London CCTVs. 

“Bright blue, looks like velvet, gold lace trim,” whispered the man sitting next to her, short and stocky with close-clipped brown hair. Both were in their mid-thirties, they, like everyone else in the room, were in clean-cut black suits. “Which is actually less flaming than usual.”

“He looks pretty good for, what, 150 Why d’you think he never has a date?” 

“Maybe he’s just keeping it on the down-low. He does have his superpowers, after all.”

They looked at each other before bursting into quiet laughter. 

“What’s so funny?” asked a younger woman sitting in the row behind them, leaning forward in her industrial blue desk chair. Her neatly pinned hair, unusually crisp suit, and ramrod straight posture suggested that she was new to the office. 

“None of the sixty-sixes are _ever_ on the down-low.”

-

“Ladies and gentlemen, please move along. There’s been a gas leak. If you’re feeling under the weather, emergency services have a station on the corner two blocks south. You too, miss.” This was to a teenage girl with close-cropped hair holding a Polaroid camera that was steadily clicking away.

“But officer, I saw a flock of owls there. Who’s ever heard of a gas leak that attracted owls? And then there were the red sparks, and I swear I saw some men in dresses!” 

The face of the first speaker, an older woman in a police uniform that fit her like a glove, softened in sympathy. “People often see strange things after a gas leak. Go get yourself checked out by the medics, there’s a girl.”

The teenager scowled, but did as ordered. The older woman caught the eye of a man, also in uniform, standing five hundred feet away. The two ambled over towards the site of the explosion, where, indeed, there were a handful of men who, indeed, were wearing what looked like dresses. Just before they reached the men, the older woman’s face took on a befuddled cast.

“We’ll need to secure the scene until the investigators get here, sirs,” she said. “No telling what just happened here.” She let out a small giggle. “Why, it almost looked like magic!” 

“Sure does,” said her partner stoutly.

The men in dresses exchanged a quick glance, and one of them pointed what looked like a polished stick at the two officers. “Obliviate!” he called. The two officers’ eyes widened and their faces slackened. One of the men muttered something that sounded like “muggles,” and the lot of them disappeared with a series of cracks. 

The officers immediately dropped their vacant expressions. They exchanged a glance.

“Idiots, the lot of them” said the man.

The woman grimaced. “Indeed.”


End file.
